Christmas is anticipation on ten energy drinks. It’s advent calendars counting down the days, Christmas lists with constant amendments, and baking sugery concoctions you wouldn’t dream of consuming the rest of the year. Santa, and sometimes his pesky Elf assistant, are always checking that list and parents don’t often shy from reminding their children that Big Brother is watching. Growing up, all December felt like taking a daily dose of Christmas crack.
Then the big day hits. The one you’ve been waiting for. You went through all the magical traditions of pjs and Christmas stories and singing carols the night before, rushing to bed, then willing yourself to sleep so the Big Guy can deliver those gifts you’ve been thinking about each and every day for a month. How many will there be? Did I forget anything? Is it Christmas yet?
Christmas morning arrives and you’re all jittery with excitement and over consumption of Christmas cheer. You see a tree loaded with gifts and, while you want to tear into them, you find one final ounce of patience and endure pictures down the stairs and waiting turns between gifts. Opening them is thrilling, although you’re secretly comparing the size and amounts to your siblings, and your stomach has a tiny pit as the package pile dwindles.
It’s not that your’e selfish, really. It’s not that what you’ve recieved doesn’t exceed your wildest dreams. It’s just that, once the last peice of wrapping paper is ripped, once the stockings are emptied, it’s over. The thing you’ve been waiting for, day dreaming about, whispering with your siblings over, anticipating every day for a month, is over.
I have a confession. I’m 33 years old and I still experienced the holidays highs and lows into adulthood, feasting on the excitement, then crashing back down into reality. My overconsumption of Christmas anticipation has diminished, of course, with few thoughts of what fills up packages for me and more of a desire to make Christmas an experience, rather than a race to the end result, for my family.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s plenty of focus – far too much – on filling up stockings and piling gifts under the tree at our house. But I hope the journey to Christmas is a special one for my kids, spending precious time together, decorating, talking about the meaning of Christmas, adding special touches like a Birthday cake for Jesus at the end of Christmas dinner.
I know I can’t eliminate the “let’s just get there, but I don’t want this to be over yet” catch-22 of Christms and I’m not sure I really want to. I hope along the way, though, my family learns to treasure traditions like I did, feels the Spirit of Christ in the giving, and longs to honor the Savior by remembering His birth while hoping for a new pair of roller skates.
Most of all, I’m relieved to be entering the new year without crashing first. Our tree is already down, the ornaments and lights put away. We still have lingering decorations, but nothing that stresses me. We’ve enjoyed Grandma’s visit, playing with new toys, and talking about why we celebrate. Most of all, I feel refreshed by time spent with family, renewed by focusing on Christ, and thankful for the abundant blessings surrounding me.
Merry Christmas (belated) to you and your family! It does seem like a dance we do not to crash too hard when it’s suddenly over.